In one of my recent posts, I talked about the love and friendships I have found, rekindled, and/or built, through the marvels of the internet.  I also dropped in a teaser about knowing a bit about the underbelly of this particular beast, and that I have had a little experience with that.  Guess this is me, all set to fess up to a couple of really, really idiotic mistakes I made, solely in the effort to help someone else avoid some hurt, in their lives.

When I first got online,  twelve years ago, I became absolutely obsessed with, MSN, and chatlines.  Oh my, the hours I lost, much like the ones I lose now on facebook/yearbook/twitter/myspace, and the list goes on.  The very first night  I was introduced to MIRC, I spent the entire night, in front of my desktop, on a dangerously uncomfortable chair, so much so, that I had to call in sick to work, because my back wouldn’t move.  The first post I put in a public chatroom, had my heart racing so badly.  I didn’t want to say something wrong and make myself sound like a dimwit.  I was also in a room where there were definite rules that needed to be adhered to, and I quickly realized my nickname needed to be capitalized, or the attention I was going to get would be a tiny bit outside my realm of experience.

It was on a fetish site, I can admit that.  I am not ashamed that I jumped in with both feet, even so much as to have my own little “dungeon” opened for business.  Funny thing is, I never, even then, felt the need to hide my real name.  My room was CindyLee’s Playground, and we played.  I met a lot of nice people, a lot of strange people too, of course.  I actually still have a friend from those very early days, at dabbling in this world.  Keep in mind, this was before profile pictures, and long before webcams, so there was a certain degree of anonymity.  I couldn’t pull that off, by today’s standards.

The reason I mention this, is to say, that from that particular site, some of my friends crossed over into my MSN, and I chatted privately with a few, talked to a few on the phone even.  I definitely have a thing for a boy with a sweet voice, and any kind of accent.  Oh my.  Where was I?  Oh yes, it was one of these cross  over “friends”, that ended up being one of the scariest xperiences of my life.

To be honest, I pushed this so far out of my head for so many years, I can’t remember the guy’s name.  I remember what he looked like.  I remember he worked at the University of New Brunswick, in Saint John.  I remember that mainly because after the “incident” he was afraid I was going to get him fired, but I am getting ahead of myself.  I had chatted with him, online, for about 3 months.  I felt like I knew this guy, fairly well.  He had expressed interest in me, beyond that of a friend, and I had politely, and consistently, thanked him for saying the kind things he did, but refused to go into that direction in any conversations with him.  He knew I had a boyfriend, because I constantly reminded him I did.  Each time he started to stroll down a path that looked like it could become an issue, I reminded him of that.

I was working in a call centre at this time, and it was coming up to July 1, Canada Day, for those of you not familiar with our holidays.  Well, it was an American call centre I was working for, so we were to be open that day, holiday hours, which meant time and a half, for as many hours as you could sit your butt in your chair and cram stuff down folks neck.  I was so excited because, my kids were with their Dad, and I can sell!  I had dollar signs dancing in my brain when I woke up that morning with my eyes almost glued shut.  ER doctor confirmed my diagnosis of pink eye, and shut my day of bucks down quick.  Three days off, and I am now depressed!

So, I jump on my trusty computer, and low and behold, dude is there and sympathy just oozing out of his every post.  My kids were gone.  My boyfriend was deployed in Bosnia.  I am totally alone, because everyone has plans, and alone is my biggest nightmare.  He suggests he has tickets to an all day, outdoor concert in Saint John, he could come and get me, take me and bring me back.  No strings attached, just two friends hanging out.  Now, I am not naive nor am I stupid, this was an hour’s drive there and then back.  I asked him repeatedly, if he understood, and assured him that nothing would happen.  He was totally cool with that and even offered to have a female friend come along, so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable.  I guess, a part of me, believed, but a part of me was still wary, and I told him I would meet him in the local hospital parking lot.  I didn’t want him to know my address.  Truth be told, he could have followed my car when we got back to town, but I thought I was being a little clever.

When he arrived, his friend was indeed in the front seat, and I climbed in back.  It felt OK.  There was good conversation on the drive there.  We ate some junk food and listened to some great bands.  I only had one drink, and he insisted on paying for everything, even though I kept trying to pay my own way.  He made a couple of comments about what  I was wearing (white shorts, red t-shirt), told me a few times how lucky my man was, but never said anything to indicate it wouldn’t be fine.

We didn’t see much of his friend the whole day, but she did come find us after the fireworks, for the trip home.  I was still feeling pretty good about how things had gone.  That quickly turned when the friend insisted she was not making the trip back to Oromocto.  OK, then I got a little nervous.  He dropped her off, and went inside while I waited in the car for about 20 minutes.  I huge part of me was screaming inside. The road between Saint John and Oromcoto, is nothing but trees, and straight through a military training base.  He still hadn’t given me any indication that anything was wrong yet, so I tried to relax.

As we headed out of town, he needed to stop for gas, and while he was in the store paying, something compelled me to use my cell to call my ex-husband. I quickly explained that I had done a dumb thing in getting in a car with a virtual stranger, and if I wasn’t back home to call him in 45 minutes, to come look for me.  He was livid on the phone, I have to say, and I knew we would be conversing when, or if I got home.  Buddy caught me finishing up my call, but I told him I had been just checking up on the kids.  Then began the longest car ride of my life.

Not very far out of town, he pulled the car off the road, and leaned across the seat, grinning at me, that it was time for a kiss.  I backed off and told him it definitely wasn’t.  He grabbed my neck pulled me to him and said that it was.  I pulled away and told him that I had been very clear that that wasn’t going to happen.  He laughed at me.  I can definitely remember that laugh.  His face was getting redder and redder, the more I said no.  He asked me how stupid I really was.  Why would a single man, drive a total of 4 hours, spend gas money, tickets, food, all of it, to not expect he was going to get some in the end???  I started sobbing at that point, terrified that, when my ex-husband came looking for me, he was going to find a body on the side of the road, and prayed he left the kids at home!

The tears seemed to snap him out of it a bit, and he slammed the car in gear, and headed off.  I was so relieved, but we still had a long way to go.  He started ranting and raving about me being stupid and a tease.  He called me names, and I huddled against the car door as far away as I could.  He started to calm down, and tell me he wasn’t the kind of guy to take something from a woman who didn’t want to give it.  I started to think it was going to be fine, and then he stopped the car again.  He insisted that I owed him at least a kiss, and I started to cry again, uncontrollably.  That wasn’t stopping him that time, and he grabbed me and roughly pulled me to him, pressing his mouth against mine, hard.  I could feel the skin under his fingers bruising, he was holding my arms so tightly.  I was certain, I was going to be raped, until he roughly threw me back away from him, hollered “Bitch” at me, and rammed the car in gear.

I was sobbing, curled up in a ball as far from him as I could be, and he started to rant and rave about losing his job, his friends.  Begging me to tell him if I was going to go to the cops, because I could charge him with assault, and he would never be able to work for the university again.  He went on and on about needing warning.  I didn’t owe him anything but he he kept going on and on about letting him know what I was going to do, because he needed to call his lawyer.  He said he was mad at himself, because I made him do that, and it wasn’t like him.  I just said I wasn’t going to tell anyone.  He tried to convince me that he would get in trouble, but I really was the one who had made the mistake thinking I wouldn’t have to give him something, for all the money and trouble he had spent.

The rest of the trip is a blur.  I know he talked non-stop, and when he got to my car, as I was getting out he asked me one last time to please tell him if he needed his lawyer.  I just hung my head, climbed in my car and locked the door, pulling my cellphone from my purse as I was going.  He of course, assumed it was the cops I was calling, and barreled out of there.  I called my ex-husband, and got the lecture of my life, which I completely deserved.  He made the biggest and most valid point.  If I had been killed, my kids would have been motherless.  He called me selfish, which I was, totally.  I was never so relieved to hear someone chew me out, because I was still alive to hear it.

You hear horror stories every single day, on the news about women, and much much younger girls, who aren’t as lucky as I was that night.  I was extremely dumb and naive, for a generally smart, savvy lady.  I don’t know why I went against my gut that day.  I got away with a cut lip and some fingerprint bruises, lots don’t get away with their lives.  I truly hope, that in reading this, someone will pass it on, to someone, who won’t end up getting in that car.  You know the ironic thing, buddy still contacted me the next day!  Now, I would have found a way to get back at him,and I would call the cops, I wouldn’t just delete and block him and call it the end.  Actually, now, I wouldn’t get IN the car.  It was a tough lesson to learn, but a valuable one to be sure.  Please, teach the young people in your lives, who chat and have access to the internet, the dangers that can go along with this.  There are very sick people out there, playing deadly games.  I survived, for many reasons, but maybe one of them was to get this message out there.